But how to do it was an embarrassing question--a question that was more than August could solve.

There was a difficulty in the weakness and wrong-headedness of Norman; a difficulty in Norman's prejudice against Dutchmen in general and August in particular; a difficulty in the fact that August was a sort of a fugitive, if not from justice, certainly from injustice.
But when nearly a third of Norman's employer's money had gone into the gamblers' heap, and when August began to understand that it was another man's money that Norman was losing, and that the victim was threatened by no half-way ruin, he determined to do something, even at the risk of making himself known to Norman and to Parkins--was he Humphreys in disguise ?--and at the risk of arrest for house-breaking.

August acted with his eyes open to all the perils from gamblers' pistols and gamblers' malice; and after he had started to interfere, the mud-clerk called him back, and said, in his half-indifferent way: "Looky here, Gus, don't be a blamed fool.

That's a purty little game.
That greeny's got to learn to let blacklegs alone, and he don't look like one that'll take advice.

Let him scorch a little; it'll do him good.